The moment I saw my brother cruising around in a shiny red convertible, I knew something was off. Little did I know, that car held the key to a betrayal I never saw coming — and a plan Gran had set in motion long before she was gone.
My name is Juniper. I’m 26 now, and I’ve been living out of state for four years. Honestly, it was the best decision I ever made: to get away from my family and from all the hurt that came with it.
It wasn’t like I ever felt a part of them. My parents had always favored my older brother, Maverick. You could say he was the golden child, but that doesn’t even cover it. Growing up, I was just… there. The “spare,” as Gran used to joke, though there was always a tenderness in her voice when she said it.
That’s part of why I left. Well, that, and Noel — my boyfriend. He convinced me it was time to live for myself, to create something outside the shadows of my family.
We packed up our little car, and I moved with him to the city, away from my parents, Maverick, and all the memories.
“Noel, I swear, I just couldn’t stay there anymore,” I had told him over dinner once. I still remember the way he’d smiled at me from across the table, his hand reaching out to grab mine.
“You don’t need to explain it to me again, June. You did the right thing,” he had reassured me, squeezing my hand. “You deserve more than being the second choice.”
Even after four years away, I barely spoke to my family. Calls came less frequently, texts became a rare formality. My parents? They didn’t seem to mind, honestly. It was like I had just faded out of their lives. The only one who stayed in touch was Gran.
She was the one person in my family who made me feel like I mattered. When I was younger, she’d sneak me chocolate bars when my mom wasn’t looking, or call me on the phone late at night just to hear how my day went.
Gran didn’t care if it was boring or if I felt like my life was a mess. She just listened.
And then, one day, I found out she died. Accidentally. No call, no message, nothing. Can you believe that? I was scrolling through Facebook, of all places, and saw a post from an old family friend. Gran’s picture. A date and a “Rest in Peace” note.
I couldn’t breathe. I stared at my phone, waiting for things to make sense, but they didn’t. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest.
I dropped my phone on the table, stood up, and muttered, “Gran’s gone.”
Noel looked up from the couch. “What? What do you mean she’s gone?”
“She died. No one even told me.” I could feel the burn of tears, but it was more than sadness; it was anger and perhaps betrayal. “How could they not tell me?”
Noel was up in a second, pulling me into a hug, but it didn’t make any sense. Why hadn’t my parents called me? Even Maverick. Nothing.
I booked a flight back home that same night.
I didn’t care what it took — I had to visit Gran’s grave. I had to say goodbye, at least on my own terms. The next morning, I found myself walking through my hometown, the place I hadn’t seen in years, the place I had fought so hard to escape. Everything was as I remembered, except one thing.
I blinked, stunned. “The… what?”
As I stood at the corner of the street near the cemetery, I spotted something that made my blood run cold. My brother, Maverick, cruising by in a shiny red convertible.
Maverick? The one who still worked as a cashier, who could barely make ends meet? He was driving a red convertible that looked like it cost more than his entire life savings.
My stomach churned. Something wasn’t right.
Later that day, I found myself standing by Gran’s grave, the soft rustle of the trees the only sound around. The earth was still fresh, and I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach. Gran was really gone. I hadn’t been able to say goodbye properly: no chance to tell her how much she meant to me.
The pain of finding out about her death through a Facebook post still stung like an open wound.
As I knelt beside the grave, I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up to see Mr. Anderson, Gran’s best friend. He was a kind, older man, always hovering around Gran, helping her with anything she needed. His face was somber as he approached.
“Juniper, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, standing beside me. “Your Gran… she was a one-of-a-kind lady.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She really was. I just wish I had more time with her.”
He nodded, his eyes distant. Then, after a moment of silence, he turned to me and asked, “Did you get the $20,000 she left you?”
I blinked, stunned. “The… what?”
Mr. Anderson’s brow furrowed. “Your Gran. She mentioned in her will that she set aside $20,000 for you. I just assumed you knew.”
My heart dropped. Suddenly, the red convertible Maverick was driving made all the sense in the world. The anger that had been simmering inside me boiled over. “No,” I muttered, standing up, fists clenched at my sides. “I didn’t know.”
Mr. Anderson’s face paled. “Oh, Juniper, I’m so sorry.”
But I wasn’t listening anymore. I had to get to Maverick’s trailer. Now.
I stormed back to my car, my mind racing. Maverick, who could never hold down a steady job, was suddenly driving around in a flashy car, and I hadn’t thought twice about it? Of course, it was my money. The money Gran left me — the one person in my family who actually cared about me — and he stole it without a second thought.
When I pulled up to Maverick’s trailer, I was ready for a full-blown confrontation. But what I saw stopped me in my tracks. There, crumpled in the driveway, was the red convertible, completely wrecked. The front bumper was smashed, the windshield shattered, and the tires looked flat, like the car had been in a serious accident.
And there, standing in the doorway of his beat-up trailer, was Maverick. He was leaning on crutches, a cast covering his leg, and his face was bruised, a mess of cuts and scrapes.
Karma had already caught up with him.
I walked up to him, my anger momentarily replaced by shock. “Maverick, what the hell happened?”
He shifted uncomfortably on his crutches, his eyes darting away from mine. “It’s… it’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” I gestured at the totaled car. “That doesn’t look like nothing. What did you do? And why did you take Gran’s money, Maverick?”
He winced, knowing he couldn’t avoid it any longer. “I didn’t mean for it to go like this, Juniper. I… I just thought I’d borrow it. I was gonna pay you back. But then I saw that car, and…”
“Borrow it?” I was incredulous. “You don’t just ‘borrow’ twenty thousand dollars that wasn’t left to you. Gran left that money for me, and you took it like it was nothing. And now look at you. This is karma, Maverick. This is what you deserve.”
Maverick opened his mouth to protest, but I wasn’t finished. “You’ve always taken everything. My parents’ attention, their affection: everything was always about you. But this? This was different. This was from Gran, the one person who actually gave a damn about me, and you stole it.”
Maverick hung his head. “I messed up, okay? I thought—”
“You thought what?” I snapped. “That I wouldn’t find out? That I didn’t deserve what Gran left me?”
He didn’t have an answer. We stood there in silence, the weight of everything hanging in the air. Then, just as I was about to turn and leave, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Mr. Clearwater, Gran’s lawyer.
“Mr. Clearwater?” I answered, keeping my eyes on Maverick.
“Juniper, I’ve been going over your grandmother’s will,” Mr. Clearwater said. His voice was calm and steady, as though he knew I needed some reassurance. “There’s something you should know. Your grandmother predicted this might happen.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
“She knew Maverick might try to take the money, so she had a plan in place. The $20,000 was only a part of her estate. The rest of it — her house, her savings, her investments — it’s all yours, Juniper. She left everything to you.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Everything?”
“Yes, everything,” Mr. Clearwater confirmed. “Your grandmother was very clear. She wanted to ensure you were taken care of, so you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone.”
Tears pricked at my eyes, but they weren’t just from sadness. Gran had known. She saw this coming, every bit of it, and she had protected me in the way only she could. Even in death, she was still looking out for me: still showing me that I mattered.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I looked at Maverick. “I hope that convertible was worth it, Maverick. I hope you enjoyed the ride.”
“Juniper, I—” he started, his voice shaky.
I held up my hand, cutting him off. “Don’t. I’m done with excuses, Maverick. Just save it.”
Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, broken in more ways than one. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like the forgotten sibling. Gran had made sure of that.
If this story touched your heart, take a look at another exciting read: When my grandmother asked us to come to her place to celebrate her birthday, I didn’t expect my family to do what they did! Grandma was hurt by their actions, and I wasn’t willing to let my family go unpunished. So I came up with a plan that put them in their place!
She rose to fame on Dallas, take a moment to prepare yourself for her appearance today at 84
Linda Gray became a household name thanks to her role as Sue Ellen Ewing on the beloved soap opera Dallas. Over the course of more than 300 episodes, she not only showcased her incredible talent but also faced numerous personal challenges along the way. Today, at 84 years old, Gray continues to shine.
Throughout the history of film and television, we have witnessed remarkable performances by countless actors. Some portrayals resonate so deeply that it’s hard to imagine anyone else in the role. For instance, who could envision Little House on the Prairie without Michael Landon as Charles Ingalls or Mary Poppins without Dick Van Dyke as Bert? Similarly, Linda Gray’s portrayal of Sue Ellen is irreplaceable, and fans of the show are grateful she was cast in such a pivotal role.
Gray’s life has been nothing short of extraordinary, resembling a roller coaster filled with ups and downs. She has confronted life-threatening illnesses, addiction, and a challenging marriage. Despite these adversities, she has always emerged stronger, committed to making the most of her life and career.
Starring alongside Larry Hagman and Patrick Duffy on Dallas, Gray recently opened up about her experiences working with Hagman and the dynamic chemistry they shared on set.
Born on September 12, 1940, in Santa Monica, California, Gray faced a significant challenge in her childhood when she was diagnosed with polio. Her grandfather had also contracted the virus, leaving her family in distress. However, Linda maintained a surprisingly optimistic outlook during her own diagnosis. “They didn’t know what it was when he was 17, and he was always in a wheelchair”, she recalled. “When I was diagnosed, everyone went crazy in my family, but I wasn’t. I thought I could have a wheelchair like Grandpa.”
Growing up in Culver City, California, where her father owned a watchmaker shop, Linda was drawn to the performing arts from a young age. She often entertained her neighbors and even starred as Cinderella in a school production at Notre Dame Academy in Los Angeles.
While her father provided a stable presence, he was emotionally distant. As Gray noted in her 2015 memoir, The Road to Happiness Is Always Under Construction, “He was just kind of there, like a piece of furniture”, and emotional discussions were off-limits. In contrast, her mother, Marge, a former artist and ballerina, struggled with alcoholism, leaving Linda and her sister to take charge of the household. “She wasn’t mean, she was just blurred, in her own world”, Gray wrote. This upbringing inspired Linda to pursue a different path, determined to avoid her mother’s fate.
With dreams of a career in medicine initially, Gray soon shifted her focus to acting, influenced by the Hollywood landscape surrounding her. She spent her teenage years modeling for various companies and airlines.
At 21, Linda married photographer Edward Lee Thrasher, but the marriage became a struggle. Her aspirations took a backseat as she became a wife and mother, welcoming son Jeff in 1960 and daughter Kehly six years later. Linda felt emotionally neglected, describing the marriage as “cold” and ultimately deciding to leave after 21 years.
Despite her husband’s disapproval of her pursuing acting, Gray took the plunge and began landing television commercials. She had minor roles in films like Under the Yum Yum Tree and Palm Springs Weekend but hit the jackpot when, at 27, she became Anne Bancroft’s body double for The Graduate poster (1967). Ironically, she later portrayed Mrs. Robinson in a 2001 stage adaptation of the same film.
In her memoir, Gray also shared a humorous rejection letter from Glamour magazine she received in the early 1960s, which she kept as a reminder of resilience. “It kicked me from behind, and made me want to go and do something”, she said.
Though she loved motherhood, the lack of a fulfilling career frustrated her. When she finally enrolled in acting classes, her husband dismissed the idea, suggesting she wait until their children were older. At 37, she forged ahead and trained alongside younger actors. It wasn’t long before she secured her first significant role as a guest star on Marcus Welby, M.D. in 1974.
The turning point came in 1978 when Gray was cast as Sue Ellen Ewing on Dallas. Initially meant to be a recurring role for just five episodes, her performance resonated with audiences and critics alike, leading to her becoming a series regular and turning her into a star.
Dallas, set against the backdrop of family rivalry and scandal at Southfork Ranch, showcased Gray’s exceptional talent. Her chemistry with Larry Hagman was palpable, but she clarified that it stemmed from a sibling-like bond. “He was the bad big brother that I never had”, she explained. Their dynamic translated beautifully on-screen, captivating both the network executives and viewers alike.
The show broke numerous viewing records, becoming one of the most-watched television series in history. The iconic episode revealing who shot J.R. Ewing drew an estimated 80 million viewers, a record that stood until surpassed by MASH*.
For her role, Gray received two Golden Globe nominations and an Emmy nomination for Outstanding Lead Actress. After divorcing Ed Thrasher in 1983, her son Jeff pursued a career in directing and earned an Emmy nomination in 2018. Tragically, he passed away in 2020 after battling leukemia. Gray honored him on Instagram, celebrating his life and the love he shared with those around him.
Throughout her tenure on Dallas, Gray appeared in 308 episodes. Following the show’s conclusion, she continued to work in television and reprised her role as Sue Ellen in the 2012 revival of Dallas, which aired for two seasons. She received a Special Award at the 2014 USA Film Festival, further cementing her legacy.
Now, at 84, Linda Gray remains as stunning as ever. She has navigated many challenges, from her childhood struggles to her difficult marriage and the loss of her son. Through it all, she has learned to transform adversity into resilience.
We admire her strength and wish her continued success in the years to come! Feel free to share this inspiring story with your family and friends.
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